


Worth It

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Adorable 4 year old Monica, Cause we all know Carol's father was an asshole, F/F, Fluff, Minor TW: Child Abuse, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Pre-Movie, What Carol wouldn't do to make her daughter happy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 16:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: Monica really wants to dress up as a pilot for Halloween, and not any kind of pilot: the same costume Carol wore when she was a kid. Since it's impossible to find Carol has no other choice but to contact her mother and ask her to send the costume all the way to them. Or she could just go get it herself, isn't that less troublesome?





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Easilyobsessed92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Easilyobsessed92/gifts).



> Hey guys! I got a burst of inspiration for this story yesterday when someone on Twitter made me notice that the costume we see Carol wear in that old picture is the exact same Monica wore in the Halloween picture! And there has to be a story behind it! So I wrote it!  
> This story is a gift to Easilyobsessed92! Don't you dare ask me why I'm gifting it to you! You know it!  
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!

Carol was seated at the end of the dining tables, hands fisted against her chin reflectively. She'd placed the phone in front of her, so it couldn't escape her line of sight. She glared at it every few minutes. It was just one phone call, one small phone call. She could do it. One phone call to make Monica happy. There was still plenty of time before Halloween. She would call her mother, ask her to get the costume for her, send it all the way to California, and Monica would be happy. She would be beyond happy. It was easy to make her daughter happy. All she had to do was pick up the phone, and dial the phone number she couldn't quite bring herself to forget.

  
Carol glared at the yellow plastic phone. She didn't like its color. She'd told Maria a red phone would be better, but Maria wanted the yellow one. Now they had a hideous phone.

  
With a huff, she stood up and picked up the phone. She placed it back on the small table by the couch. The taut cable loosened. Carol almost stumbled when she tried to take a step away as she found it wrapped around her ankle like a snake. She sucked in an annoyed breath and jerked her leg free. This was stupid. She wouldn't need to call her mother, because Maria and Monica would return from the costume store soon, and they would have found a pilot costume for Monica. She was sure of it. Old 1920s pilot costumes had to be a Halloween staple, right?

  
Carol glared at the phone one last time for good measure and tried to distract herself somehow. She fell into the couch and turned on the TV. There wasn't anything interesting at this time of the day, so Carol channel surfed until she found something she thought could distract her. Still, her eyes would fall on the phone beside her. She shook the thought away and returned her attention back on the TV.

  
The familiar sound of a car engine stopping in front of the house pulled Carol out of the show she was watching. She stood up and stretched. Her old Star Wars shirt was pulled up in the motion, and she tugged it back in place before making her way to the door. She was expecting to find a happy four-year-old on the other side, with her usual bright smile. The thought alone made Carol smile in turn, and so she opened the door eagerly.

  
"Hey! How was shopping? Did you..."

  
Her voice died down when Monica walked in with a pout. Maria was still rummaging through her car's trunk, trying to pick up the grocery bags all at once.

  
"We didn't find it," Monica grumbled.

  
Carol's smile faded, and while Monica walked past her and toward her bedroom to sulk, the blonde walked out to help Maria with the groceries.

  
"It didn't go as planned, I take it."

  
Maria sighed.

  
"They didn't have it and Monica didn't want anything else."

  
"She's just being stubborn," Carol offered as she picked up as many bags as her arms could carry. "I'm sure she'll come around."

  
"Yeah, I wonder who she takes after..." Maria said as she closed the trunk with her now free hand.

  
Carol rolled her eyes.

  
"You, obviously."

  
"Funny, that's not what I was going to say."

  
The couple brought the paper bags to the kitchen, dropping everything on every available surface. Carol started emptying hers and putting everything in the fridge while Maria went to take off her jacket and shoes. Carol had crumbled the empty bag into a ball when Maria joined her in the kitchen.

  
"Did you call your mother?" she asked almost immediately.

  
Carol froze for a second before pretending that she hadn't heard anything, hoping Maria would let it slide. Maria, of course, instantly noticed that Carol was avoiding her question.

  
"Carol?"

  
"Hm?"

  
"Did you call your mother to ask if she still had your old costume?"

  
Carol shrugged.

  
"Oh, she probably has it somewhere in the attic. My mom never threw away anything that belonged to me or my brother."

  
Maria closed the cupboard and turned around, her piercing dark eyes falling instantly on Carol.

  
"So what you're telling me is you didn't call her."

  
Carol kept her back to Maria, pretending to empty an already empty paper bag.

  
"Carol."

  
"I didn't, okay!"

  
Carol turned around to face her girlfriend.

  
"I couldn't! I'm sorry!"

  
Maria sighed. Any annoyance she could feel toward the blonde's childish behavior deflated when she saw the insecure glint in Carol's brown eyes. She crossed the small distance between them and took Carol in her arms.

  
"It's okay."

  
"It's really not and I don't deserve a hug."

  
Still, Maria knew she wouldn't be able to pull away with how fiercely Carol was holding onto her.

  
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Maria assured her.

  
"But what about Monica? This costume is what she wants more than anything."

  
"Yeah and last month she wanted a pet fox because we ranted The Fox and the Hound. She's over it now, and she'll get over the pilot costume too."

  
Carol couldn't help but pout.

  
"But I don't want her to get over the pilot costume. Can you imagine how adorable she will look in it?"

  
Maria sighed again. This time she stepped away and Carol let her.

  
"I'm sure we can figure something out," Maria promised.

  
Carol nodded, though she couldn't quite get rid of the feeling of uncertainty in the back of her brain.

* * *

  
  
"Monica! Dinner's ready!"

  
When Maria's voice died down, and its echo wasn't followed by the sound of tiny feet running down the hall, Carol and Maria exchanged a look of concern.

  
"I'll go check on her," Carol decided.

  
She went to Monica's bedroom door, which was ajar. She found Monica completely hidden under her blanket, curled up in a tiny ball on her side. Carol smiled fondly. She sidestepped over toys, plushes and Lego bricks and lightly sat at the foot of Monica's bed.

  
"Well, I guess Monica isn't here so all her food is mine."

  
Monica didn't burst out of her blanket with indignation as Carol had planned. In fact, she showed no reaction at all. Carol tentatively tried to pry the blanket away but Monica was holding onto it firmly, so she stopped.

  
"Hey, Lieutenant Trouble, what's wrong?"

  
"We didn't find my pilot costume..." Monica mumbled from under the blanket.

  
"Aw, it's okay. Maybe you could dress up as something else?"

  
This got Monica out of her blanket, as she sat up suddenly, throwing her blanket on Carol's lap.

  
"But I don't want to be something else! I want to be a super pilot like Amiliahurart!" Monica shouted.

  
Carol picked up the discarded blanket and bundled it to the side.

  
"I know baby, I know. But maybe we can find something just as cool?"

  
"Nothing is as cool! Plus, you promised!"

  
Carol frowned.

  
"I did?"

  
"Yeah! You promised I would get to dress up as Amiliahurart like you did!"

  
Carol fell silent for a moment. She didn't remember making any promises and Monica was probably blowing her words out of proportion. But the hopeful glint in the little girl's eyes was all Carol needed to start thinking more concretely about the problem.

  
"Well if I promised I have to find a way to make it true now."

  
Monica took in a surprised breath.

  
"Really?!"

  
"Yeah, that's what cool aunts do, right?"

  
Monica threw herself in Carol's arms. Carol caught her easily and smiled as she hugged Monica back.

  
"You're the best!"

  
"Just the best?"

  
Monica giggled. When they separated, Carol stood up.

  
"Come on, dinner's ready and your mom is gonna eat everything if we make her wait too long."

  
Monica pushed herself off her bed, her legs still a bit too short to reach the ground when she sat at the edge of it.

  
"No, that's you!" the little girl said.

  
"What me?"

  
"It's you who eat everything when we're not looking!"

  
Carol faked an offended sigh.

  
"How dare you!"

  
Monica giggled and left her bedroom quickly. Carol stayed behind for a moment, as she looked at the pictures on Monica's dresser. There were a few framed baby pictures, some pictures of Monica with her parents or her grandparents. Amidst all of them was also a picture Carol had given to Monica recently, the picture of her as a kid in her old pilot costume.

  
"Carol?"

  
"I'm coming!"

  
She sidestepped her way back through Monica's room and headed to the dining room.

* * *

  
  
"I could just drive there."

  
Maria put her book down, sure this was the beginning of another one of Carol's trademark 'great ideas that inevitably go sideways'. They were in bed, Maria seating with her pillow behind her back. Carol had been seating, but she'd slowly sank into the bed until she was almost completely lying.

  
"Drive all the way to Boston for a Halloween costume?"

  
"Why not? How long is it gonna take? A day or so?"

  
"Make it two just to get to Boston, and that is if you don't stop on the way."

  
Carol smiled with satisfaction.

  
"Perfect! Then I'll take a few days off, I'll leave tomorrow and I'll be back Thursday night."

  
Maria glared at Carol and it suddenly hit the blonde that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

  
"You're not driving four days non stop without sleep to get a Halloween costume!"

  
"But I promised her! I have to get it somehow!"

  
Maria sighed frustratingly.

  
"So instead of calling your mother and asking her, you'd rather go see her in person?"

  
Carol shrugged.

  
"All I have to do is wait until I'm sure no one is home. They keep an emergency key under the flowerpot, I can just go in, get the costume and leave. It's not theft if it belongs to me in the first place."

  
Maria sighed again.

  
"I'm not letting you drive across the country for a Halloween costume. It's stupid. Monica will just have to understand that she can't always have what she wants."

  
Carol rolled her eyes.

  
"Is this really want you want to teach her?"

  
"I want to teach her that if she really wants something she'll have to work hard to get it. Nothing is going to be handed to her just like that. You know it, I know it, now it's her turn to learn it too."

  
Carol frowned.

  
"Wait, are we still talking about a Halloween costume?"

  
Maria looked at Carol in disbelief.

  
"Either way, it's no."

  
Carol smiled mischievously, which Maria knew could only mean trouble.

  
"Well, what I want more than anything is to see Monica wearing the same costume I wore when I was a kid. And since I need to work hard to get it..."

  
"Don't you dare..."

  
Carol placed a kiss on Maria's cheek and rolled on her side, her back to Maria. She pulled the cover up to her neck and settled herself more comfortably. She waited. A few seconds later, she heard a sigh and the light being switched off. She smirked when she felt Maria's form pressing against her back and her arms wrapping around her.

  
"I hate you," Maria told her.

  
"I know. Believe me, if I could fly there I would, but I doubt that would be allowed."

  
Maria's grip on Carol's waist strengthen and Carol felt Maria nuzzling against her hair.

  
"Why am I always the strict mom?" Maria asked.

  
"You're not. You're the cool mom who just happens to know what's best for everyone," Carol assured her. "That's why I love you."

  
"Cause I know what's best for you?"

  
"Cause you're what's best for me."

* * *

  
  
The drive had been a piece of cake compared to what Carol was about to do. She took regular breaks like she'd promised Maria, called her any chance she got to report on her progress, and eventually entered the Boston area in the middle of the afternoon on the third day of her trip. She parked her Mustang across the street from her old childhood house. Nothing had changed since she'd left. That old empty flower pot her mother had always planned to fill with gardenias was still beside the porch. The mark on the kitchen window from that night she had to break the lock to get in because her brother had forgotten to put the emergency key back in place had not been repainted. Speaking of. Carol picked up the small flower pot with a dead succulent in it, and sure enough, the emergency key was there for the taking.

  
She unlocked the front door quickly and walked in. Like she'd planned, the house was empty. It still smelled like smoke and cheap deodorizing. Nothing had moved inside either. It was as if a spell had been cast when Carol had left all those years ago. The same jackets on the coat-hanger. The same shoes by the entrance. Her father's armchair was forever stuck in relax position, with the footrest open.

  
Instead of going straight for the attic, Carol moved to the kitchen. Her mother's domain. Here too, nothing had changed. The same pots and utensils on display, even the fridge was still the same. What had changed were the pictures on it. There used to be pictures of her and Steve as children pampered among important papers. Now most of them were gone. They'd been replaced by pictures of an older Steve, and a baby Carol had never seen before. Well, she'd received the birth announcement card. She'd just never met baby Joe Danvers.

  
"Joe, are you home?"

  
Carol froze. She hadn't heard the voice in years but she could recognize it instantly. Her mom was home.

  
She quickly crushed the panic in her heart and took in a deep breath. Then, with measured steps, she walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, for her mother to see her.

  
"Carol?"

  
Her mother was shocked, and she remained by the open door for a moment.

  
"Hi, mom."

  
"What are you doing here? We weren't expecting you."

  
"I know. I'm sorry. I was just... I just came to pick something from the attic. I'll be out of your hair in no time."

  
Her mother seemed disappointed, but she didn't voice her feeling. Instead, she nodded and finally closed the front door.

  
"You could have called ahead. I would have invited Steve and Kate. And little Joe! Have you met Joe yet?"

  
Carol stuffed her hands in pockets and tried not to fidget too much as her mother went on and on.

  
"No, I haven't met him yet. Listen, mom, I'm..."

  
"He's such an adorable little boy. Always smiling. Remains me of Steve when he was a baby."

  
Her mother moved past her to go into the kitchen and get herself a glass of water.

  
"Mom..."

  
"Do you want to drink? You look tired."

  
"Yes, I've been driving for three days to get here and get my old Halloween costume, of course, I'm tired!"

  
This finally seemed to snap her mother out of her automated politeness.

  
"Three days? Why on Earth would you drive for so long to get... your old Halloween costume? Which one?"

  
Carol leaned against the door-frame, arms crossed while her mother emptied and washed her glass.

  
"The pilot one. Do you still have it?"

  
"Of course I have it! It's in the attic. But I don't think it will fit you anymore."

  
Carol rolled her eyes.

  
"It's not for me. It's for Monica."

  
Her mother frowned, and Carol elaborated:

  
"Maria's daughter. You remember Maria? Maria Rambeau? We met at the Academy? My best friend?"

  
Her mother didn't seem to remember who Carol was talking about, so she continued to explain.

  
"Well, anyway, our daughter wants to dress in my old pilot costume for Halloween and...

  
"Did you say 'our daughter'?" her mother cut her off with a confused frown.

  
Carol cleared her throat.

  
"I said 'her daughter'. Monica. Maria's daughter. Anyway, she saw that old picture of me in that pilot costume but Maria couldn't find one at the store so I thought I'd... come get mine."

  
The more Carol spoke the more it became apparent why she didn't want to talk to her mother and have to explain the situation to begin with.

  
"So you drove across the country for a Halloween costume?"

  
Carol pursed her lips.

  
"Yes?"

  
Her mother nodded.

  
"Well, we shouldn't keep Monica waiting much longer."

  
Carol's mother led her up the stairs and pulled the ladder to the attic down.

  
"There should be a box marked 'Halloween costumes' somewhere up here."

  
Carol started climbing up the ladder.

  
"Thanks, mom. I'll be done in no...What the hell?!"

  
As Carol's head passed through the dusty trap door her eyes landed on a sea of cardboard boxes, all stacked up on top of one another. She looked back down at her mother, who was still holding the ladder for her.

  
"Why are there so many boxes up there?" she asked.

  
"Because it's important to preserve your children's things. You'll understand soon enough, I'm sure."

  
Carol shrugged her mother's comment off, unsure of what it meant. She crawled up into the attic and brushed the dust off her hands as she stood up.

  
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," she heard her mother say.

  
"Okay."

  
Carol moved the nearest box until she could see some form of writing on it. Steve's baby toys. She was surprised to find it was rather light as she pushed it away, though it was likely that half of it had already been given to baby Joe. She suddenly sneezed, raising even more dust into the air. Do it for Monica, she told herself again as she grabbed the nearest box and searched for any markings.

* * *

  
  
It took her just under an hour to finally find the right box and her pilot costume intact inside. She had to constantly remain focused, as any box marked with her name was a potential distraction that would have cost her previous time. She still looked inside the box containing her childhood books and picked up a few she thoughts Monica would like. With all of her treasures in hand, she finally walked down the ladder and left the dusty attic. She pushed the ladder close and dusted herself off quickly.

  
"Did you find it?" she heard her mother ask from the kitchen as she walked down the stairs.

  
Carol went to the kitchen, only to find her mother pulling a plate of cookies out of the oven.

  
"I did. And I took a few of my old books too. I thought Monica would like them. I hope you don't mind."

  
"Of course not!"

  
Her mother placed the hotplate on the counter and took the oven mitt off her hands. Carol reached for one of the hot cookies on the plate, but her mother batted her hand away with the mitt before she could grab it.

  
"Even after all these years you're still ready to burn your fingers to get food," her mother noted with a disapproving look.

  
"That cause I can't feel the burn anymore now," Carol replied.

  
Her mother moved to grab a plate and instantly Carol snatched a cookie from the plate. The treat was burning her hand, and it was so hot in her mouth it barely tasted like it was supposed to, but she didn't care. Her mother rolled her eyes.

  
"I suppose you'll be leaving right away."

  
Carol finished her mouthful and nodded.

  
"Monica is going to be waiting for this."

  
Her mother picked up a zip-lock and placed a few cookies inside. Then, she placed it in the plastic bag on the table and handed it to Carol.

  
"Here, for the road. I made you your favorite sandwich and..."

  
"Mom!"

  
"Please, take it. You never visit, let me treat you when I can."

  
Carol rolled her eyes but took the bag anyway.

  
"What, do I not look healthy?" she joked as she looked inside the bag, trying to guess what was what.

  
"You look happy," her mother confirmed.

  
Carol looked up at her mother, who offered her a small smile. Carol smiled back. Then she cleared her throat and pretended to look at the clock.

  
"I should probably get going..."

  
"Of course."

  
Carol took a few tentative steps toward the entrance door, her mother following her.

  
"Carol?"

  
She turned around quickly.

  
"Yes?"

  
"Could you send me a picture of Monica in your costume?"

  
"Oh... yeah, sure."

  
"Thank you."

  
Carol was about to take another step toward the entrance when the door opened suddenly.

  
"Honey, I'm home!"

  
A long uncomfortable shiver ran down Carol's entire body. Both she and her mother's eyes zeroed in on her father, now standing by the entrance door. He shut the door behind him with a smirk on his lips.

  
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!"

  
"I was just leaving," Carol replied coldly.

  
"Good. It's about time you get out of my house and find yourself a life."

  
Carol's blood was boiling, jaws clenched.

  
"I have a life," she replied between her teeth.

  
"No, you don't. Your brother has a life. He's married, he has a job and he has a kid. You're still stuck in your little girl's fantasies."

  
The blunt of her nails dug in her palms as she fisted her hands.

  
"I am a Captain of the US Air Force," she remained him.

  
"Who doesn't fly combat!" he shot her down. "For God's sake, Carol, you're twenty-eight! By then I would have hoped you would have done something with yourself!"

  
Carol let out a long breath through her nose. She was trying to put into practice years of dealing with guys like him, but somehow it was failing her.

  
"What I do is important, whether you believe it or not. It matters to me and to a lot of people. What did you ever do with your life that was actually important to anyone but yourself?"

  
"You little!"

  
She could almost see it in slow motion. Her father's hand opening up, his arm reaching out to slap her like she was still a disobedient ten-year-old. But she wasn't. Years of honing her reflexes suddenly came back to her. With her free hand, she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. She pinned him to the nearest wall violently. Her mother gasped while her father laughed.

  
"You've grown strong but you're still that same little girl stuck in her dreams."

  
Carol might have hit him if her other arm wasn't full. If her mother hadn't audibly gasped when her father had hit the wall. As it were, she pushed him away from the wall and further into the house, and she took his place by the door. He stumbled but managed to catch his footing. Maria's voice was echoing in Carol's mind. We don't do things to rub it in other people's faces. We do it for us.

  
"I have to go back to my life. I'll see you in hell."

  
She walked out the door without a second look to her parents. She placed everything on the passenger seat beside her but didn't drive off just yet. Instead, she took long, deep breathes to calm herself. She placed her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She wanted to go back in more than anything. It hadn't hit her until now what she could do to him. Dangerous thoughts danced at the back of her mind. Then, her eyes found the costume and the books beside her. She closed her eyes again. She let out a long breath. She straightened herself in her seat and turned on the ignition.

* * *

  
  
The journey home seemed to go far slower than the trip to Boston, which Carol found very strange. She couldn't wait to see the look on Monica's face when she would show her the costume. She arrived home at one in the morning, three days after making it to Boston. She was tempted to go to bed but she was so tired she crashed on the couch instead.

  
She was woken up at just past six a. m. by an excited little girl, who had obviously found the costume Carol had unceremoniously dumped on the dining table.

  
"Auntie Carol!"

  
Carol grumbled and turned to lay on her back.

  
"Auntie Carol! Wake up!"

  
"Is it Christmas already?" Carol mumbled.

  
Monica giggled and shook her head.

  
"No!"

  
"Okay then let me sleep..."

  
"But look!"

  
Monica was holding up the jacket of Carol's old costume for Carol to see.

  
"It's your costume!"

  
"Well, now it's your costume."

  
Monica's eyes seemed to be lit by a thousand stars.

  
"Really?"

  
Carol smiled.

  
"Yes, really!"

  
Before Carol could even try to get up, Monica jumped on her to give her a big hug. Carol huffed upon the initial impact but she didn't try to push Monica away. Instead, she hugged Monica tighter, until the little girl started squirming and complaining:

  
"Auntie Carol! I can't breathe!"

  
"Yes you can, see, you're talking now, it means you can still breathe."

  
"That's not how it works!"

  
"Yes, it is!"

  
Finally, Monica managed to push herself out of Carol's arms. Carol sat up and watched with a smile as Monica picked up the entire costume and ran to her bedroom. She almost collided with her mother at full force as Maria exited her own bedroom.

  
"Look, mom! A pilot costume!"

  
"I see that baby!"

  
Monica disappeared into her bedroom and Maria walked into the living room. Carol stood up from the couch.

  
"Why didn't you come to bed last night?" Maria asked.

  
"The couch was closer," Carol explained with a shrug.

  
Carol was about to kiss her girlfriend but Maria stopped her mere inches away from her.

  
"I've missed you," Maria whispered.

  
"Not as much as I have."

  
"I hope this trip was worth it."

  
Carol smiled.

  
"Did you see the smile on Monica's face?"

  
Maria nodded.

  
"You did good Danvers."

  
Carol shook her head.

  
"My job isn't complete until both of my girls are smiling."

  
With a smile of her own, Maria allowed Carol to close the distance between them. They kissed lovingly, and Carol promised herself that she would never willingly stay away from her girlfriend for more than a day. She had missed her more than she could have ever imagined.

  
When they separated, Maria moved to side-hug Carol. They waited for Monica to emerge, surely in costume, with one arm wrapped around each other.

  
"Now all we need are costumes of our own," Carol noted.

  
"Oh no, I took care of that while you were away," Maria replied.

  
Carol looked at her with interest.

  
"And you didn't even ask me what I wanted?"

  
"I'm sure you'll like it."

  
"Is it Leia from Return of the Jedi?"

  
Maria snored.

  
"I'm not even going to answer to that!"

  
A few seconds later Monica emerged from her room. Carol old costume was just a bit too big for her. She was running around with her arms outstretched like a plane. She'd managed to fit most of her hair under the cap but some was still sticking out in front of her face.

  
"I'm a pilot!"

  
Both Carol and Maria smiled brightly.

  
"Yes you are, baby!"

  
"You're a real Lieutenant Trouble now!"

* * *

  
  
Dear mom,  
  
I'm sorry I  
  
Carol crumbled the piece of paper and threw it away with the quickly forming pile on the table. She wasn't sorry for stopping her father from slapping her, that was stupid. She picked up her pen and started over.  
  
Dear mom,  
  
Here's the picture.  
  
She paused. What else could she add? It wasn't like she wanted to reconnect with her parents, not what had happened right before she'd left. But she wanted to make good on her words, and send the picture anyway. She sighed. She didn't know why she bothered. She picked up the picture she was going to send. It was a copy of one of the pictures Maria had taken during their Halloween round. Carol was seating with Monica, dressed in her Janis Joplin costume. Monica was in her pilot costume, a pumpkin bag in her hand. It was a nice picture, she was sure her mother would like it. But if she really had nothing better to say, then there was no point in writing a letter, to begin with.

  
She sighed again and signed the letter. She folded it around the picture, then placed everything in the envelope. She wrote down the address quickly and placed the stamp in the corner. She was going to do it now, or it was going to drag for another five years and she was going to forget about it completely. She put on her jacket and went out.

  
The walk to the nearest mailbox was quick, and suddenly she found herself face to face with the blue metal box. She stared at the envelope in her hand, then back at the box. Finally, she placed it inside without giving it another thought and walked back home. She promptly forgot about the letter and the picture. Had she returned to her childhood home in the following years, she would have found the picture on mother's fridge, proudly on display.


End file.
